


without your touch, baby i never existed

by TameTheBeastZayn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Riding, Slight Comeplay, Top!Harry, cuz whats larry without fluff, oh theres fluff too, wow im really proud of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TameTheBeastZayn/pseuds/TameTheBeastZayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Louis makes sure his movements are slow and languid, wants to drag this out. Harry’s stretching him wide, the burn working its way slowly up Louis’ spine, settling into his bones, and Harry’s there, pushing hair out of Louis’ eyes and stroking his face, and Louis hasn't loved someone the way he loves Harry - so completely and totally - ever, and maybe that’s just another reason they were made for each other, maybe God had this intended from the beginning, since Day One. Louis can't help the smile that comes on his face - its one that’s reserved for only Harry, when they’re as close as two people can get - and Harry returns it, dimples and glistening eyes, and wow - Louis’ ridiculously in love. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>x</p><p>(basically morning sex with neighbors and glow knobs thrown in)</p>
            </blockquote>





	without your touch, baby i never existed

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to all my lovelies out there. you know who you are, aint nobody as dope as you.
> 
> first published fic, not edited, so whoops, sorry if it sucks.
> 
> thanks for reading i'm just a cactus

Mornings at the Styles-Tomlinson house were usually relaxed and laid back, just the way Louis liked them to be after three long and tiring weeks of touring. On this morning, he wakes, body stiff and coiled like a spring. He is already registering that today, this glorious first day off, was going to be absolutely hell. Why?

It was nine am (yes, he had to look twice at the bedside clock), and the sun was shining, right through the fucking window, and into Louis’ eyes. London is never sunny. Ever. Especially in the middle of September.

“ _Fucking shit_ ,” he curses, and he haphazardly rolls out of bed, falling (unexpectedly) onto the cool hardwood floors. Louis groans, wincing in pain when he realizes that he’s (of fucking course) naked. He wishes that Harry would really just rush in here like always and lift him up into his arms and -

“Lou?” Louis groans again, and there Harry is, morning tread echoing in the older boy’s ears. Harry laughs softly, coming to a stop in front of Louis. “What happened?” he asks, voice riddled with wonder and deep, so so deep. It flows like velvet into Louis’ every pore, and he sighs, content.

“Mmm. I fell.” Harry laughs, quietly, and he squats down to face his boyfriend. Louis’ eyes are still closed, so Harry pushes the hair off his forehead, fingers scratching at Louis’ scalp. The older boy hums in pleasure, and he finally opens his eyes, only cracking them open enough to see Harry.

From this angle, he looks like something from the Bible. His hair is messy, eyes wide, green irises bright. Maybe his mind is playing tricks on him, but he’s pretty sure Harry’s glowing.

Louis sighs and reaches out a hand, blindly searching for Harry’s. He finds it at last, the familiar shape of his fingers lacing with his own. They sit like this, quiet, just enjoying each other's grasp. Louis’ heart swells, because this is all he wants, all he ever wants, no matter how rich, how famous, how beautiful he'll ever be.

After an unknown amount of time (Louis can't decide whether it was two hours or two minutes, though probably the latter), Harry leans forward, pressing a kiss into Louis’ hair. “Quesadilla’s. Get up and breakfast will be ready.” Louis groans.

“Don't make me get up.”

“You’ll have to get up sometime.” He stands, much to Louis’ dismay, and laughs once again, quietly. “At least to put on clothes.”

“I wanna stay here forever,” Louis mumbles, lips moving against the cool floor. He didn't really, he just wanted to listen to Harry talk.

“No matter how fantastic your bum looks,” Harry says, “it looks even better in clothes.”

“Don't get cheeky, Styles.” Harry laughs, still quiet and undisturbing.

“Don't make me break out the promises.” Louis opens up his eyes, fully, and cracks a smile.

“What exactly is at stake here?” he asks, suddenly curious.

“I don't know,” Harry replies, mischief written all over his face. “Get up and find out.” Louis watches as the curly haired boy hesitates in the doorway. “It starts with ‘b’ and rhymes with ‘glow knob’.” He winks and Louis sighs, every muscle in his body protesting against the idea of getting up and getting a glow knob. Although glow knobs were very, very fun.

Harry has disappeared, and Louis finally manages to get up off the floor, all in one piece. He sighs and flings open the curtains, bright cheery sunlight filtering through their bedroom. Louis winces, but his body is starting to work, and maybe this won’t be hell, this first day off, back in London, back home.

Louis opens the drawer of his dresser and grabs a pair of spandex boxers, more than likely Zayn’s. He pulls them on and runs his fingers through his sleep matted hair, cursing when the knots come out. He then grabs his phone, the familiar itch to hear something from the boys coming back. Sure enough, as soon as he unlocks his phone, message after message come in, the majority from Zayn or Niall. He doesn't read them, just opens them so his alert tone won’t go off, and then he walks, very slowly, out of the room.

The rest of the tiny apartment is bright and sunny, every window wide open. Louis smiles to himself, rounding the corner and spotting Harry’s figure, hunched over the stove. Tea’s already out, placed on a little platter on their small table, and Louis hums, inhaling deeply. “So you finally got up, after I made promises?” Harry asks, not turning around from his place at the stove. Louis adds sugar to his tea and turns to face Harry. The sight almost makes him drop his cup.

Harry’s always been fit- even when he was 16 and still had baby fat hiding his hips- but even the tiniest things still get to Louis. Especially when it’s Harry’s tight little ass, bare, with the neat bow of an apron resting on top of it.

Harry turns around, question unanswered, and at Louis’ expression, he giggles. “You act like you’ve never seen me naked before.” Louis coughs, takes a sip of his tea, and returns his eyes to Harry’s only clothing, a tight Green Bay Packers apron that Niall bought the curly haired boy in America.

“Well, I think that’s unfair.” Harry turns back to the stove. Louis smiles, walking around the island and tucking his hands underneath the apron, rubbing over Harry’s stomach. “You certainly don't see me and my peachy bum cooking your lazy arse breakfast.” Harry shakes his head, pressing on the thing in the pan. “Don't surprise me like that. One of these days I might lose control and ravish you while the food burns.”

“While that sounds tempting,” Harry’s skin erupts into goosebumps when Louis kisses his shoulder blade, “I am starving.”

“I think I know something you can... eat.” Louis smashes a grin into Harry’s spine, fingers coasting up to his chest to pinch playfully at his nipple. “Full of protein, although its an acquired taste.” He hums, Harry barking out a laugh before turning, the movement unlatching Louis from his back.

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, and I recall correctly,” Harry cuts the quesadilla he’s making and takes a piece, biting into it and offering Louis the rest, “You were the one begging for it last night.” Louis grimaces when he sees the onions in the cheese, but eats it nonetheless. “Just desperate for my cum.” Louis sputters, the cheese suddenly clogging his airways, but once he finally can breathe again, he feigns innocence.

“That wasn't what protein rich, foul tasting food I was talking about.”

“Oh, but you were - are - desperate for it?” Harry laughs taking another piece of quesadilla and stuffing it into his mouth, tongue first like always.

“If you’re trying to turn me on with your eating, its not working.” Louis smiles, finishing his piece of quesadilla. Harry’s return smirk makes Louis’ heart beat fast, makes his mouth go dry, and maybe the way Harry ate, jaw flexing , a closed lip smirk finding its way to his lips, was hot, just a little bit. His adams apple bobs when he swallows, and then its all wicked grin, dimples sending electricity through Louis’ veins.

“Is that so?” Harry finally says, voice low, eyes trailing over Louis’ face slowly, so slowly. Louis’ almost giddy with anticipation, and it shouldn't feel good to be stared at, to be scrutinized by someone as beautiful as Harry, but it leaves Louis struggling for words, mind and heart racing. “Am I not seductive?” Harry moves closer, the last word a whisper. Louis swallows thickly.

“You’re doing a pretty fucking good job,” he says, hand reaching out to grab Harry’s waist. “Never been hot over someone in an apron.” Harry laughs softly, crowding Louis against the edge of the counter.

“Well, I think we can atest to that.” Harry leans down to kiss Louis’ jaw, moving a hand to the older boy’s hair to tilt his head back. “The last time I wore an apron - just an apron - you fucked me silly on this very counter.” Harry whispers the words into Louis’ skin, nails scratching at his scalp. “Remember that?” Louis can't find words, not when he can feel Harry getting hard, not with Harry practically covering his body. And it’s nice, letting Harry leave him speechless, letting Harry work him up.

“Or, remember the day that we moved in?” Louis’ throat goes dry at the memory. “Remember how you ate me out, made me cum four times with just your tongue, before we even unpacked?” Louis feels himself get hard with each syllable, his mind flooded with the memory. The way Harry sounded his fourth time cumming, sobs echoing in the practically empty apartment, tears leaking onto the unmade bed, voice begging Louis, “please, baby, please”.

Harry smiles, sucking a bruise into Louis’ collarbone before continuing. “And remember when I fucked you with Zayn on the phone?” Louis does remember. He remembers how everything was heightened, how every drag of Harry’s hips made him muffle animalistic noises into the pillow, all while Zayn droned on about management and some new policy. “Remember - “

“Why don't you use that pretty little mouth to make me forget?” And maybe it doesn't make sense, but Harry understands, following up Louis’ words with a rough kiss, hands tugging on the older boy, his hair, his waist. Louis feels drunk, light headed, and breathless. Harry lets out a harsh breath, hips connecting with Louis’ in an uncoordinated grind. Louis’ hands fly to Harry’s ass, undoing the apron and groping him, earning a delighted garp from the curly haired boy. And then its as if there was never any space between them. Harry does something with the apron and slots his legs between Louis’, hard cock trapped between them. Louis smiles into the messy kiss they’re sharing, and wraps a hand around Harry.

“Fucking hell.” Louis pulls away for breath and leans his head against Harry’s shoulder, watching himself work Harry over.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, biting at Harry’s shoulder.

“I fucking love you,” Harry says, and then they’re kissing again, teeth and saliva and tongue, and it should be gross, they’re practically inhaling each other, but its not, its perfect, the way Harry cants his hips upward each time he closes his lips, the way he gasps when Louis runs his finger over the slit of his cock every third stroke. And Louis can't remember the way they got like this, his hand on Harry’s cock, him pressed between Harry and the hard counter, but that’s okay, because Harry’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon nonstop, and Louis knows what that means. He pulls his hand away, muffling Harry’s frustrated groan with a kiss, asking, “Bed?” And Harry can't grab his hand fast enough. Louis giggles, _fuck, this boy_ , and Harry giggles,running down the hallway to their bedroom, apron still around his neck.

Harry gets to the door first, and as soon as Louis’ there, he grabs him in a kiss, stumbling backwards with his arms full of Louis, and Louis loves it, loves how they're giggling into each others mouths, kissing with their eyes open like they're 16 and 18 all over again. Louis wants to remember this for the rest of his life, wants to remember the way their every move depends on the other, the way Harry bumps into their night table, nearly knocking over the lamp, and Louis’ hand is right there, balancing him; and then they’re kissing again, one of Harry’s hands cupping Louis’ jaw and the other searching for something.

Louis grabs his wrist, stops kissing him, and reaches up on Harry’s dresser, grabbing the thin bottle. “I sometimes doubt your memory, Curly.” Harry just shakes his head, doped up smile plastered to his face. And Louis doesn't want to waste any more time, so he strips off his boxers and lays back on the bed, opening his legs suggestively. “Well, I’m not going to fuck myself.”

Harry moves at his words, throwing the bottle up toward Louis’ head and getting between the older boy’s legs. Louis marvels at how perfectly they fit together, the way Harry’s hands span across louis’ thighs, holds his legs up to his waist, the way Harry’s lips fit right underneath his jaw, and they were made for each other, just like Eve was made for Adam, and Juliet for Romeo. Louis doesn't know how he existed before Harry, doesn't know how he ever thought of being with anyone else but Harry.

And when a slick finger massages around his hole, then gently pushes in, Louis realizes that he never was existing, never was living, before Harry.

A deep groan filters Louis out of his trance, and he doesn't know if it came from him or Harry, but it consumes him, the noise making Louis pant out a “more, please, more” and wow, now he is desperate for it, just wants Harry, wants every part of him, every second of the day. Its a lot to want, but Harry’s all too willing to comply, slicking up his fingers and adding not one, but two more fingers, and fuck, why does he ever want to fuck someone again, when getting fucked, getting stretched open on someone's fingers (let alone their cock), feels so good, so euphoric? Louis can't help but grind his hips, pressing his cheek into the cool sheets, and Harry mouths at his neck, breath cooling the wet spots left behind by his tongue. Louis can feel that ache, the one where you know that something’s going to happen, can feel it in your bones, and then bam! There it is, making Louis gasp for air and tighten his grip on Harry’s waist, and Harry muffles a laugh into Louis’ neck, hand coaxing him back down onto the bed. “Right there?”

And Louis barely hears him over the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, but he does, and he nods frantically, pushing his hips back, searching for that jolt of pleasure, the thing that would set his nerves on fire, bombard his every sense. With a curl of his fingers, Harry finds it, making Louis lift his hips up, lip caught between his teeth. Harry follows him, rubbing his prostate over and over and over until Louis’ numb, the erratic pulsing of his heartbeat echoing, his breath labored. Harry pulls his fingers out, kissing Louis’ face - his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his mouth - to bring back the older boy’s focus. Louis inhales deeply and waits for the ringing in his ears to die down, then huffs. “Your dick isnt going to put itself in there,” Louis says impatiently. Harry narrows his eyes, and without doing anything to hide the stupid smile on his face, he grabs the bottle of lube, slicking himself up as quickly as possible.

Irritable as always, Louis pushes Harry over, until Harry’s back is on the bed, and in one quick movement, he’s straddling him, Harry’s hand still on his cock. The younger boy smiles up at Louis, wiping his hand on the sheets and bringing both up to Louis’ waist. Louis knocks them away, ignoring Harry’s grimace, and takes the base of Harry’s cock between his fingers, angling it upward. And with one cheeky wink from Harry, Louis sinks down, all the way down, until Harry is buried inside him. A satisfied sigh escapes Louis’ lips, and Harry follows suit, hand coming up to Louis’ waist and moving the older boy slightly.

And its unsaid whether Louis was ready or not, but Louis gasps with pleasure, goosebumps finding their way onto Louis’ skin. Harry curses, eyes glued to Louis’ face, marvelling at what God has given him. Louis closes his eyes, overwhelmed. Harry’s hands burn on his skin, his muscles settling in for the ride ahead. Louis circles his hips, letting a soft noise escape when Harry slides his hands up and down, thumbs kneading the skin above his thighs. Louis makes sure his movements are slow and languid, wants to drag this out. Harry’s stretching him wide, the burn working its way slowly up Louis’ spine, settling into his bones, and Harry’s there, pushing hair out of Louis’ eyes and stroking his face, and Louis hasn't loved someone the way he lovesHarry - so completely and totally - ever, and maybe that’s just another reason they were made for each other, maybe God had this intended from the beginning, since Day One. Louis can't help the smile that comes on his face - its one that’s reserved for only Harry, when they’re as close as two people can get, and Harry returns it, dimples and glistening eyes, and wow - Louis’ ridiculously in love.

“I love you,” Harry says, as if reading his mind, and its soft, like the sun shining in from their window, and Louis leans down, kissing Harry, not hot and heavy like most times when they’re fucking, but slow, just the repeated press of lips. Louis loves it like this, relaxed, no hurrying, just them and them alone, no people telling them how they’re going to live their lives, no prying eyes.

Harry doesn't expect Louis to say anything - Louis’ never been one to express his feelings entirely openly - but Louis does, says it quietly against Harry’s lips, blue, blue eyes wide and honest. “Loved you since forever.” Louis smiles, then dirtily grinds on Harry’s cock, earning a delighted gasp in reply.

“Show me,” Harry says, and Louis has never been one to turn down a challenge, so he smirks, circles his hips, and comes all the way up, until Harry almost slips out of him, and Harry’s so beautiful always anticipating Louis’ next move. Louis closes his eyes, and sits down fast, starts to fuck himself in earnest, and its good, so, so good, but Louis’ determined to find the spot, the good spot, and Harry catches on, grabs Louis’ hips, and angles his thrusts, until Louis feels it uncurl in his gut, heat spreading from his insides to his fingernails, and there its is, “Right there,” and its de ja vu, Harry said this not even three minutes earlier when he was opening Louis up. Harry smiles, sliding his hands up Louis’ sides and grazing his fingers over the older boy’s nipples, and it sends a tingle up his spine, makes his hair stick up, skin ridden with goosebumps.

On one of Louis’ down thrusts, Harry grabs his waist, keeping him in place, and they grind into each other, not moving on Harry’s cock, but moving Harry’s cock inside of him, and its really too much - Louis feels like he’s going to combust in the next two seconds - but Louis loves the torture, loves being kept on edge, loves being denied of things.

Harry lets go of his waist, to fist his hair, palm resting directly behind his ear. Louis smiles, looking down at his cock for a few seconds. Its red and leaking, and Louis pretty sure he’s never been this hard in his entire life, but he’s ready for anything Harry throws at him. He feels weightless, invincible.

Harry - the strong bastard - sits up, using only his abs, and holds Louis to his chest, bringing his mouth to Louis’ in an uncoordinated manner, and really, Louis loves Harry. Lots. Harry tastes like mouthwash still (somehow) and Louis licks it right out of his mouth, wanting to inhale Harry and just live with the younger boy inside of him (however weird and creepy that may sound, it sounds a lot better in his head), all soft curls and deep dimples and blown pupils. Louis doesn't know what he’d be without Harry.

Harry kisses Louis’ jaw with bruising force, relishing the red marks Teasdale’s gonna yell at them about. Harry couldn't care less, and neither could Louis. He was tired of everyone judging, of everyone making assumptions.

Harry thrusts shallowly and pulls Louis’ hair, returning their mouths together in a soft kiss, and Louis smiles, nipping at Harry’s bottom lip. He massages his hands into Harry’s biceps, smoothes his fingers over the dark ink of his tattoos, and wonders idly how he got this lucky.

“You’re so perfect,” Harry murmurs, hands moving to knead Louis’ ass. “So tight.” Harry pulls his hand back and smacks Louis, hard enough to sting, but not hard enough to hurt. “Fuck, so hot.” His voice is deep, dark, and resembles velvet in a lot of ways, especially the way it flows and settles over Louis in an all-consuming way. It makes Louis boneless, makes the muscles in his thighs give, and Harry picks him up, letting his cock slip out for about three seconds, and in those three seconds, he moves Louis onto the bed and opens his legs, leaning over the older boy to kiss him, one hand holding his leg up, the other guiding himself back in.

Louis’ eyes flutter shut when Harry’s stretching him open again, the feeling sending a wave of emotions coursing through his body. Louis smiles dopily, and then Harry picks up the pace, the slapping of skin becoming louder. The headboard begins hitting the wall rhythmically, and Louis takes the sounds in, remembering them. (This is the only time the headboard has hit the wall.)

“You like that?” Harry asks, breath short. “You like letting everyone know how good I fuck you? How hard?” Harry’s words burn themselves into Louis’ brain, but its good, too good, he can't form a sentence.

“Fuck - “ He manages. “Fuck, yes, Harry.” Harry slams his hips forward, resting his forehead against Louis’ and they’re breathing with open mouths, pants and small pleased noises the only sound in the room (besides the headboard and Harry’s thrusts). Harry moves faster somehow, spreading Louis’ legs farther apart to get the deepest angle, and Louis can feel every millimeter of Harry’s cock leaving him, and then coming back, and it so fucking good, so thick, so long, so hot, and Louis can't fight it anymore, he welcomes the signs of his orgasm with open arms. Every time Harry hits his prostate, a zing goes up his spine, shivers run through his body, and he can't think, only knows feelings, and right now he’s feeling pretty fucking awesome.

On one exceptionally deep thrust, Louis feels it, knows he’s at the edge, and he warns, “Harry, I'm gonna - “

“Gonna cum from just my cock, yeah?” And Louis does just that, he cums untouched, just from Harry’s cock, and he’s lightheaded, seeing dots in the corner of his vision. A warmness spreads through his body, starting at his ass and working its way outwards. He feels the warm mess pooling on his stomach, but he couldn't care less, not when Harry’s pounding into him - and he’s just cum, for Christ’s sake. Harry shudders and bites Louis’ bottom lip, cursing, and with a large gasp, he pulls out, hand replacing Louis. His fist moves fast, really fast, and Louis watches, dazed, as he cums, spilling not into his fist, but onto Louis’ thighs, white ribbons making a nice little mess of the soft flesh.

Louis giggles softly, too sated to do anything else, and then Harry’s there, still panting, but begging to be kissed, all red lips and crooked, pouty smile. Louis pecks him twice, mind still fuzzy, and then he’s gone, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses down Louis’ torso. Harry pauses, but Louis can't be arsed to look, fuck, he’s still seeing dots, and then a wet tongue is on his thighs, and fucking hell.

Louis’ eyes fly open and he sits up on his elbows. “What - ?” His questioned is answered with Harry smiling up at him, swallowing thickly.

“Well, I’m not getting up to get a flannel.” And he resumes, looking up at Louis and collecting his cum - his own cum - on his tongue, swallowing, and then getting the rest, along with Louis’, and Louis can't help but want to taste, so he pulls Harry up into a kiss that’s more of tongue rubbing mixed with the bitter flavor of cum - their cum - and all Louis can think is _this fucking boy_.

Harry pulls away and swallows, lips red and obscene. Louis does the same, then pushes Harry over onto his back. Before the younger boy can move, Louis cuddles into his side, smile finding its way to his lips. “You’re incredible,” he whispers. Harry’s chest rises and falls with his labored breathing.

“Its a shame, all that I wanted was - “ He’s interrupted by a loud knocking, pounding more like. Louis looks up at Harry, confused for a second. Who would be pounding on their door like that? “Jesus, I hope it isn't a fan,” Harry says, pulling on Louis’ boxers and exiting the room. Louis sighs, then gets up, throwing on a pair of sweats, and following Harry to the front door. Harry finger combs his madly disheveled hair then unlocks the door, opening it hesitantly.

“Yes?” he asks, and Louis, always nosy, throws open the door. A young woman in bed shorts and a tank top stands there, hair a mess.

“Hi, I’m from 2C.” Oh God, it was their neighbor. Louis hopes he doesn't look like he just got fucked. “I just came over to - Oh my God, are you Harry Styles?” She looks over to Louis. “Fucking - oh my God, I’m so sorry. It’s just you woke me up, the - “

“Headboard?” Harry asks, smirking. 2C looks at Louis, then at Harry, then back to Louis.

“Holy fuck. Alright.” She pushes her glasses up on her nose. “Alright, I’ll let you back to it. Sorry for interrupting.” She stands there a beat longer, then turns, muttering “Holy fucking shit,” louder than intended.

“Bye!” Harry calls down the hall, and as soon as she retreats back to her apartment, Louis loses it, hugging Harry around the waist and giggling into his chest. “Isnt that the third time someone’s complained about you being too loud?” Harry asks, shutting the door and sitting Louis in his lap on the couch. Louis thinks.

“No, fourth, but hey, they’d be screaming too if they were getting fucked by you.” Harry nuzzles into Louis’ neck, smiling stupidly.

“Only want you, babe.”

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.” Harry giggles and flips them, pushing Louis into the couch. “Woah there pal.” Louis fists Harry’s curls none the less. “Still recovering here.” Harry kisses Louis’ neck, smiling.

“I’m sure I could help you with that.” He wraps his mouth around Louis’ adams apple, teeth digging in softly. Louis pushes him away.

“Don’t hate me,” Louis starts. Harry huffs.

“What do you want?” Louis pets down his chest. Just as he’s about to talk, his stomach groans. Harry rolls his eyes, and pushes himself up. “You’re lucky I love you so much.” Harry peels himself away, and Louis just loves him.

“Extra cheese!” Louis calls.

“It’ll make you fat!”

“Already there, buddy!” Harry pokes his head around the corner, face serious.

“Don't say that.” Louis huffs and rolls his eyes.

“Well, its - “

“Don't make me give you a lecture.”

“Just put extra cheese on it.” Harry pouts. “Love you pal!”

“Don't like that word!” Harry yells, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Thanks babe!”

“You owe me a glow knob!” Louis bursts into laughter, falling off the couch - and yeah, he's terribly in love.

**Author's Note:**

> just in case nobody got the glow knob thing, 
> 
> its a blow job.


End file.
